Comprehension
by wistfulpearl
Summary: GaaSaku Oneshot Comprehension. It was all they needed to be content with each other.


The cool night air that belonged solely to Sunagakure caressed her pink tresses as she stood in front of palace that the Kazekage-sama resided in. She shivered slightly, but it had nothing to do with the chilly wind. It was more due to the nerves churning inside that made her feet refuse to budge. Sakura scoffed to herself: standing out here wouldn't accomplish anything, either way. She willed herself to march up to the two guards standing in front of the doors, and giving them a nod, proceeded to walk in. They weren't expecting her; no one was, but the well-known fact that she and their Kazekage-sama was an item of sorts allowed her mostly free reign on his property.

The hallways were eerily quiet, and though she had travelled through these corridors often, it was never without his comforting presence beside her, or the intent of going to meet him somewhere. Now she did intend to meet him, but she knew that he wasn't here at the moment, and the place seemed empty without the normal bustle of people attending to their state affairs. She knew it had been an odd time of night to choose to intrude upon his quarters, but she couldn't keep her emotions to herself anymore, otherwise she would go crazy with misery.

She walked straight into his chambers, being able to maneuver there even with her eyes closed. She was acquainted with every aspect of his personal life, and had memorized every facet of his home. Laying down on his bed and inhaling deeply of the scent that was purely Gaara, she studied the crisp room. It was really too big when she was alone in here, and slightly forbidding. The cleanliness and lack of decorative and personal items spoke volumes about the kind of person that he was, and without him in it, could have merely been a guest room.

She shifted in his bed, sighing forlornly, not knowing when he would return, and whether or not he would be glad that she had sprung this surprise visit upon him. She berated herself immediately. _Of course he'd be happy to see you, dork! You're his lover! _Her Inner self shrieked with the scandalous idea that Gaara wouldn't be thrilled to see her.

He never affirmed with words of his affection towards her, but what he lacked verbally he never failed to make up for with in his actions: the achingly tender touches, the subtle gentling in his normally impassive jade eyes, and of course, the side of him that was solely reserved for her.

Still, there were times that she doubted. Like now, for instance.

Two days ago, it had started out innocently enough. It had been another warm autumn day where she had been attending to the patients in the hospital as was customary of a medic-nin of her expertise, having been taught exclusively by the great Hokage-sama. She had been going about her duties, and since it seemed that the world was out to get her, everything that could possibly go wrong basically did.

It all started when she woke up nearly an hour late for her shift, and she jumped out of bed, panicking all the way to the hospital, where she was promptly greeted with two clipboards shoved in her face, detailing of mere toddlers who had the misfortune of being in the vicinity of a poisonous _habu_. She supposed that she was lucky indeed to have been able to extract the poison and leave the children with simple scars, as opposed to the alternative: death. But she hadn't even been able to take a breath of relief before a severely injured shinobi was sent in, with multiple broken ribs, a concussion, and evidence of several kunai slashes in various parts of his body, lending themselves deep enough to damage major organs. He was not pronounced dead, but was in a coma, fluctuating along a thin line between life and death, and she had almost lost him on the table, leaving her battered in spirit and in body. Then came the worst: a little girl who had just touched ten actually did die, and Sakura hadn't been able to prevent it at all. She spent her days fighting death, but little Megomi had spent her entire life battling a terminal illness that just refused to leave. She had started to stop responding to treatments, and her small body deteriorated by the days, leaving her in a ghost of the cheerful, naïve girl she once was. And there had been no way of stopping it.

Needless to say, when night rolled around and she headed dismally to her apartment, Sakura was ready to just fall into bed and sleep her troubles away, and perhaps cry a little at the loss of a girl who had not yet been able to live up to her potential. Imagine her amazement when she had found _him _patiently waiting for her at the front of her door. He hadn't even said that he would be coming, or so she thought, and she wondered if throughout the stress of her daily life she had somehow forgotten an appointment of theirs.

She had wordlessly let him in, and he had wordlessly followed her.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked, though it was not out of bitterness. She had merely been wondering.

"I just finished a four day meeting with the Council." That was explanation enough. She knew that every time he came out of a Council meeting he was tense and irritated, mostly because no one seemed to be able to agree or even compromise on anything, and issues that should have only taken several hours tended to lengthen to days. She sympathized with him, but could only offer the solace of a supportive friend and lover.

He advanced towards her, taking her gently to the bed that they now shared, kissing her with a fierce passion that was ignited from days of not being able to see each other. But despite the desire that both obviously felt, Sakura pushed him away, softly, and he regarded her with something akin to surprise.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Today, everything went wrong. We had two children come in, poisoned by a snake. It was a close call, and I almost lost them. They were barely 3 years old!" Sakura vented out her frustrations. Unlike her stoic companion, she had no qualms expressing herself, and she also knew that he would always listen, no matter what she was upset about. "All because their parents had been too busy _not _taking care of their kids! Then a shinobi came in and almost died! And what did he do to deserve that? Fighting for his land, for his people! And then-and then," she faltered here, the tears dangerously close to edge, "and then Megomi, who never had a chance, succumbed to death. She was only 10; she had an entire lifetime! Now she's never going to go after the boy she had a crush on, or laugh again, and grow up and fall in love and get married, _like she's supposed to_!"

He didn't really know what to say. Of course, Sakura had expected that, but she didn't resent it. All she needed was his strong, powerful presence here, to calm her and lend her warmth when she was devoid of her own. But when he did speak, what she heard shocked her to no end.

"Sakura…you of all people should know what the duty of a shinobi is. Our lives are put on the line every day, and he was lucky to have been able to live until now." Gaara said softly, "The girls were lucky to be able to live, compared to what the shinobi experienced. And the other-"

Before he was able to finish, Sakura whirled on him, a wild flurry of infuriation and pink hair.

"What are you implying?" she demanded, appalled that he would even have the nerve to speak that way of her patients, of _people_. "That because he's risking his life for his land that he deserves to die early? That he should be _honored_ he died for his land? That the girls' injuries don't mean anything just because they lived in comparison to the shinobi?" She didn't bother concealing her anger, and her emerald eyes flashed menacingly. It was one of those things that he loved about her: the fact that she always gave genuine expressions and that she never hid her devotion to caring for people. She was strikingly different from him, and that was possibly one of the things that drew him to her in the first place. Right now, however; she was a foreboding persona to deal with.

"I didn't come here for an argument." Gaara finally said.

"What did you come here for, then? To sleep with me and satisfy yourself and then be on your merry way back to Suna until you find another lapse in time where you can come do the same thing again?" Her caustic words had been totally unexpected, full of a resentment that was not familiar with her personality. A flicker of aggravation went through his eyes and he subtly shifted his countenance back a little.

"I see how you view our relationship." He intoned, keeping any trace of emotion hidden. She hadn't meant for her words to bite so deep; heck, she hadn't even meant to say them! But coupled with exhaustion and general depression at the day at the hospital, she wasn't ready to be the supportive friend and lover she normally was.

"Don't kid me," she chose to retort instead, "I know you have duties as the Kazekage-sama, but really, you're not the only one who has things to tend to."

"Leading an entire country is hardly what I would just refer to as 'duties.' All my actions have consequences, and not just the life or death of one person, but of multitudes." Her fury reignited double fold and it only served to irritate her more when he just stared back at her.

"And as a mere medic, compared to you, my actions don't have consequences? That's such a typical thing for you to say! The Gaara who doesn't care about anyone else's needs!" She was too caught up in her rage that she didn't notice him going rigid at her words, masking his emotions with the blank expression that he was so infamous for.

"Perhaps I should leave." Normally he wouldn't be one to just retreat instead of going on the offensive, but at this moment, what she had just said had sliced deeply and embedded itself onto him, and clearly revealed what she thought of him.

"You're right. Maybe you should leave." Sakura finally said, unable to take her words back. And with a ghostly slithering of sand, he was gone.

She had fallen back against her pillows and blankets then, too worn out to cry and too worn out to scream in frustration. So she simply stared at her ceiling, wondering what possessed her to say those things. She had always allowed her emotions to get the better of her, especially when she was riled up, and he hadn't soothed her at all with his insensitive words. But she knew that that was his own way of helping her cope, with him still being awkward socially, even with someone he cared about. But it bothered her that they had left things on such an angry, resentful note. It wasn't right, and partly, it was her fault. She couldn't stay mad at him; she couldn't stay mad at anyone for long! And now that it was too late, she only felt empty and fatigued.

She had hoped that he would suddenly burst back in and she swore that she would fix it if he did. But he never came.

The next morning, she went about her daily business, half expecting that he would abruptly show up and prove that she wasn't the only one still upset about last night's incident. He didn't, and she was torn.

She did her job dutifully, but all the while with that fake plastered smile on her face, she was tearing inside. All she wanted to do was to run to him and apologize for what she said. Even though he would never show it; feelings were liabilities, she knew that he was human, and that he felt, too. And coming from the person that he trusted and cared about for the most, it must've hurt three times as bad. She had to fix it.

If he refused to come to her, she would go to him.

And that was how she found herself that night after her shift, mussing up his sheets and inhaling the comforting aroma of his masculine scent, hoping that he would come in faster so she could mend the rift between them. She had been informed upon entering that the Kazekage-sama was on a mission, but that he would return that night, and she had been upset at the thought of him going off into danger with this emptiness hanging between them.

She trusted him, and prayed that he trusted her enough to realize that she had only said those horrible things in a fit of anger, and not because she actually meant it. She was able to read him so well that she knew even though his exterior had been calm and collected, there was turmoil inside.

As she drifted closer to the edge of sleepiness, she heard the unmistakable sound of footfalls coming towards his room.

Before he even went in, he could feel the chakra that his body and mind was so attuned to, the soft waves radiating from her a consolation to his weary body. Still, he stiffened, not knowing why she was here, or what he expected from her. He went in and saw her sprawled against his sheets and pillows, her lids half closed and her breathing even. Despite what they had recently gone through, his eyes warmed at the scene before him: it was just so _right _for her to be sleeping in his bed, looking comfortable and as if she had no worry in the world and wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

He headed to his bed and finally sat down at the edge of it, and as he did, Sakura blinked sleepily.

"…Injured?" she mumbled, as always the first thing she said whenever he came back from a mission. He pulled the blanket over her form.

"No." Then he proceeded to get up and wash up, but she shifted, pulling his arm so that he wouldn't leave. It wasn't enough that that was all he said. She needed to know that he was okay, that he understood that she didn't want to leave things at that; didn't want the rift between them to grow wider.

He stared at her through charcoal-rimmed jade eyes, already knowing that this fiercely loyal female was distressed by the argument that they had had, and that she would take it back if she could. He would never doubt her love for him, and was about to reassure her that she had no reason to doubt his as well, when she spoke.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, and he could see how vulnerable she felt as she blearily regarded him. "I didn't mean it." He could see the beginning of tears gather at her eyes, and not knowing what else to do, he gathered her in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I was just upset, I'm sorry." She repeated. "I would never intentionally hurt you."

"I know." He finally said. "It's alright." And it was.


End file.
